Daughter of Holmes
by benevolent-wolf
Summary: Sherlock is confronted by a girl bearing his surname. He is obviously miffed that this young lady has just now found him, but he obliges to help her with a big case- bigger than the detective and Watson realize.
1. Part 1

"Sherlock!"

The detective didn't even turn around as he strode down the sidewalk.

"Sherlock Holmes!"

Sherlock briefly flicked his head back. "No!"

The tall man finally disappeared around the block's corner. John halted. It was hopeless. He wasn't coming back.

Then a black taxi drove by, with a familiar face in the backseat.

Watson knew where to go.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head as she set down the teapot. "Oh, I can't believe him sometimes! So rude! So boorish!" The woman set a hand on the shoulder of the visitor reclining on the living room chair. "I'm so sorry about all this, dear."

Another hand was put on the sweet lady's. "It's alright, Mrs. Hudson." The curly haired brunette's teacup clinked as it was set on the table beside the chair. "I was expecting this reaction."

The door to the small cafe flew open as a stoic man burst in.

Oh no. The man in the black Belstaff coat sitting in the back booth of the restaurant slumped. His pursuer soon slipped into the seat across from him.

John furrowed his eyebrows. "Sherlock."

All the doctor received in reply was a "hm".

"Okay, what- what happened back there?"

"I don't want to talk to her."

"Sherlock, this is ridic-"

The detective pounded his fists in the table. "I don't want to talk to her!"

Half of the crowd in the restaurant turned their heads toward the booth.

John groaned slightly and tilted his head. "Going to mope here 'til she's gone?"

There was no reply.

John shrugged as he exited the booth and headed out from the building. "Right... See you back at the flat."

Sherlock sighed heavily and slid a hand down the side of his reddened face. Why? Why did you have to find me?

The door to 221B closed with a click. Mrs. Hudson headed toward John. "What of Sherlock?"

Watson groaned as he stepped into the kitchen. "I have... absolutely no idea."

The young lady still sitting in the armchair sighed. "I knew he'd do this. I just knew it."

"Okay," John rubbed his temples. "But, who are you? What are you doing here?"

The girl's shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. "I'm an old acquaintance."

"Your accent, it's American."

"Figures; I am American."

The door again opened with a creak.

John gave a sarcastic smile. "Well, look who the cat drug in."

"Shut up, John." Sherlock towered over the frowning brunette. "And you, go home. Now."

The young woman folded her arms and turned up her nose. "No."

"Excuse me?" Sherlock's nostrils flared.

"I said," the brunette stared the detective straight in the eye. "No."

There was a tense silence. Mrs. Hudson nudged John with her elbow. "Dear, maybe we should give them some time-"

Sherlock didn't even blink. "John, you stay. Mrs. Hudson, leave."

The landlady murmured to herself, shaking her head as she left to return to her own flat.

"And now, John," Sherlock finally turned his head toward his flatmate. "Escort this girl out."

The brown-haired girl grabbed the tall man's biceps with her hands. "You have to listen to me!"

"John! Get her off me!"

John put his hands up. "Sherlock, maybe you should-"

"I said, get her out of here! Now!"

The girl's face was now red. "Dad!"

Time froze. John's eyes grew wide. Sherlock's pupils shrank.

"Sorry," John's eyes darted back and forth between the pair before him. "Did you just say, 'Dad'?"

"And here's a nice cuppa for you, dearie." Mrs. Hudson rested a china teacup on a small plate by the young lady's chair.

After thanking the woman, the girl turned to Sherlock, pursing her lips. "You're really lucky to have someone so nice as your landlady, Dad."

Mrs. Hudson smiled, seeing to that John received a nice spot of tea after she'd taken care of Sherlock and their guest.

"So, why are you here?" Sherlock asked the brunette across from him (John thought it better to sit between the two, after seeing their recent tiff), although his tone of voice screamed "uninterested".

John cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but I don't even know this girl's name and you're getting down to the serious questions?"

The detective took a quick sip of his tea, stoic as ever. "Does it matter if you know or not?"

"Um, yes!" John was in disbelief. "Why, yes; it does matter whether I know or not because I have no other idea what else is bloody going on!"

"Elizabeth."

The retired doctor blinked and turned his head to the left. "Well. Nice to meet you, Elizabeth." John extended his hand which was taken and shaken firmly. "John Watson. Retired army doctor. Afghanistan."

"It's a pleasure, Doctor Watson."

"Now, if the formal introductions are over…" Sherlock interrupted, rolling his eyes slowly and dramatically.

Elizabeth frowned as she released John's hand. "I didn't want to come to you, you know."

"Then why did you?" Sherlock retorted.

The brown-haired girl's eye twitched subtly, but she retained composure. "I've got a friend. They're in serious trouble- their life could be taken any moment. That's why I need you, Sherlock."

The detective folded his hands on his lap.

John leaned forward. "Why didn't you go to the police in your own state, then? Your own country?"

"I…" Elizabeth froze. "Er, I-"

_Ding dong!_

"I'll get it!" Sherlock jumped from his seat, eager to delay the conversation as much as he could.

As soon as he answered the door, he slammed it closed and headed back into the living room, expression dead once again. "It's Mycroft."

"Not going to let him in?" John sipped from his teacup. A "hah!" was all he received in reply.

The door to 221B flew open, and a heavily-breathing man (most likely doing all he could not to strangle the one in the Belstaff coat) entered the flat. "You know, I'm going to start writing down all the times you slam a door in my face."

Sherlock smirked. "And?"

"And then drop one on your head. Multiple times."

"Come now, you wouldn't do that," the detective spat out the words, "now would you, brother mine."

Mycroft shook his head, eye visibly twitching. "What I wouldn't do to drop one right n- alright, stop distracting me."

"Distracting?" The faux sweetness in Sherlock's voice was stomach-churning. "Brother dear, why would I ever-"

"There's a big case today."

"What kind?" John asked, setting down his teacup one last time.

Mycroft threw his hands up. "What else? A murder- and a big one too. An ambassador from another country."

"Sounds interesting," Sherlock said, his eyes lighting up.

"Excuse me," Elizabeth gracefully stood from her own chair. "but who are you, exactly?"

"Oh, pardon me." Mycroft's tone suddenly became polite (this made Sherlock roll his eyes even more dramatically than before), and he held out his hand to the girl. "The name's Mycroft Holmes. The elder brother of-" he turned his head around briefly to Sherlock. "-this dunderhead." Sherlock stuck out his tongue. Mycroft chose to ignore him. "And you are?"

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Holmes."

Mycroft blinked. "W-what?" The man turned to his younger brother. "I didn't know you were into younger-"

"What?! No!" Sherlock's hands flew up in defense. "She's not- I don't-"

"I'm his daughter." Elizabeth (much to Sherlock's relief) interjected.

Mycroft was both astonished and relieved. "Daughter? Sherlock, I never knew-"

Sherlock sighed and fell back into his reclining chair. "I courted a girl once, we fell 'in love', as idiots like to call it, we may have married, had fun one night… but that was it."

Mycroft's palm was now in his own face. "And you never cared to tell me."

"Never had a reason to." Sherlock replied, tone back to its typical bored state. "So, about that case…"

A mobile vibrated. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she checked her iPhone. "Oh, I need to go." The girl stood, flashing a smile at Mycroft and John. "It was nice to meet you, Doctor Watson, Mister Holmes." She began to head to the door, but briefly halted. "Goodbye, Sherlock."

"Hm."

The girl took a subtle deep breath (although Sherlock could feel it) and exited the flat, running a hand along the doorframe as she walked outside.

After the door had shut, Holmes stretched his hands out in front of him. "It's a trap."

John raised an eyebrow. "It's a what?"

"It's a _trap_. Do try to keep up, Watson. It's a wonder you didn't see it. Her manner, the way she spoke, the way she walked. She's obviously in danger and is leading us into a trap."

"Who set it up?" Mycroft crossed his arms.

Sherlock laughed. "Are you serious? It's Jim, you idiot! Who else?"

The detective's older sibling rolled his eyes. "I can think of about ten other people."

"I can think of eleven." Sherlock's nose turned up, and a smirk graced his narrow face. "But that is of no matter, brother mine. The game is afoot."

Mycroft stood. "Oh, a new quip?"

Watson shook his head. "Oh, no, that one is _over_used."

"Shut up, John. We need to follow that car that Elizabeth just stepped into." The doctor nodded to his friend and headed for the door.

Mycroft began to sit back down in the chair. But Sherlock's head reentered the door. "Mycroft, leave. Now."

The ginger man sighed, picked up his umbrella, and walked out the door as well.


	2. Part 2

"So, what do I do now?" Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap and tried to keep her voice steady and as confident as she could manage. The driver sighed.

"Now, my dear, you perform the next step- keeping Daddy following the trail of breadcrumbs."

"Then what?"

"Then you'll be free as a dove released."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "You're gonna kill him."

The man in the front of the car chuckled. "You're so adorable."

"A-am I?"

"An absolute gem."

The girl hung her head. What would you do, Dad? She rolled her eyes at herself. Of course. You'd escape. A sigh released from her lips. But how? How am I supposed to get out of this? They'll kill me! ...They'll kill you anyway, Liz. Elizabeth bit back warm tears. Yeah. Yeah, they will. And there's nothing I can do…

"Where to start?" John relaxed in the back of the cab. Sherlock drew out his mobile from his coat pocket.

"We start with Elizabeth." A number was dialed. The detective raised the phone to his ear.

Watson blinked. "Wait a second. Do you have her-" A gloved hand silenced the doctor.

"Of course I have her number. She laid it down on the coffee table. How could you possibly have not- Oh, hello, Elizabeth."

"Hello, Sherlock." The young lady's voice came from the other side of the line. "Something you needed?"

"I'm sorry we didn't get to speak much about this friend that is in danger before my brother so rudely interrupted."

Elizabeth paused. "That- that's okay, that's alright."

Holmes put on his sweetest voice. "Well, I'd like to make it up to you. How about we choose a place to speak alone, just you and me? Would that be alright?"

Another pause. "Yeah. That'd be fine."

"I've got the perfect place. 3807 St. Mary Avenue. Hard to miss. That okay for you?"

"Y-yes. It's fine."

"Good. How does right tonight sound?"

"...Fine."

"Fine, good. See you there."

"Yeah."

The mobile was hung up. John's mouth was released.

The doctor smiled. "Giving them a place you chose. Clever."

"It should slow Jim a little, but not by much. I'll still have the upper hand, however. I know my way around that place."

The door to the dark, empty building opened without a creak. Elizabeth's heart beat fast with anxiety.

A shorter man stepped inside. "Hello? Elizabeth?"

Liz swallowed. "Good evening, Doctor Watson. And... where would Mister Holmes be?"

John shifted his weight to one foot. "Er, Sherlock's a bit, uh, tied up right now."

_"Tea, Sherlock?"_

_Holmes had eyed John strangely. "...Thanks." The china cup had been taken, looked at... smelled. An eye roll. "John, this is drugged."_

_"Oh." John's eyes darted to the left. "Is it?_

_"What are you trying to pull?"_

_Watson threw his arms into the air. "Pull? I'm not pulling anything!"_

_"John-"_

_A bat was swung. A detective fell unconscious to the floor with a 'thud'._

_"For your own good, Sherlock."_

_One doctor left the flat, closing the door softly behind._

Elizabeth almost sighed with relief. Dad's safe... for now. "So, about my friend..."

"Elizabeth, you can stop pretending. I know it's a trap. And I'm getting you out of here."

Liz was prepared to jump into her knight in shining armor's arms and run off into the sunset, but she spied a red light on John's forehead and gasped inwardly.

Watson's head tilted. "Elizabeth? What's wrong?"

The girl didn't answer. Or move, for that matter. What could she do? Warn John about the dot on his head and risk a killing shot? Tell John to run and risk a killing shot? Warn and risk a shot to her own back? Giving up on ideas, the girl called out. "Please! Don't do this! He's not the one you want! Let him go!"

"Aw, look." A voice came from no discernible place in the building. "We got Cutie! Shame. I wanted Sexy." A sigh. "Away with him."

John exclaimed and fell to the ground as a shot was given to his back. Elizabeth screamed.

The voice piped up once again. "Oh, calm down. It's just a tranquilizer. It's not gonna kill him!"

"What do you want from him?!"

"I don't want anything from him, honey. Although, it will be much easier getting Sherly this way.."

Two arms grabbed Elizabeth from behind- one wrapping around her arms and middle, and one clamping over her mouth- and pulled her outside the building.


End file.
